Against all odds (The Pack)

Chapter 3

NOTE: I don't really mention it until later so I'll just say it now: the time to get from the Rouge kingdom to the Mutant kingdom is roughly three weeks on foot

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, two minor character deaths, pretty sad.

     ~??????'s P.O.V.~

     Sweating like a dog, I firmly press down and crush the persons skull beneath my foot. Stupid Dimensional troops and their stupid Nether base. I growl inwardly, bear hugging another enemy solider from behind and lodging my blade into the gap under the chest plate, and into their stomach. They fall to the ground, a pool of blood pooling under them as their items burst out in a ring around them. I don't get why they don't just keep their entire base in the overworld. Why, of ALLL places, must they split it into two and have a base in the NETHER?! Ugh. I guess they aren't called the 'Dimensional' kingdom for nothing.

     My instinct kicks in, interrupting my thought, and I whirl around just in time to see the twin blades heading straight for my neck. I squat down, the swords coming within and inch of my diamond helmet. Taking the moment my assailant is temporarily unbalanced, I spring upwards, upper cutting him in the face. He grunts in pain, stumbling back and gripping his heavily bleeding nose. Two angry vibrant blue eyes glare at me, blond hair just peeking out of his diamond helmet. He has a full set of diamond armour, just as I do, but not only does he wield double diamond swords... But he also has a mace and axe swung across his back, as well as a dagger strapped to his leg. And something tells me he has more weapons hidden away.

     "Hmph, I guess that makes you the weapons expert, doesn't it?" I sneer, wrinkling my nose in disgust.
     "And that leaves you a filthy animal." He snaps right back, pulling back his hand from his bloody face and thrusting one sword directly at my stomach.

     I easily parry the blow, meeting the blade with my own. His second sword is gone now, and is replaced with a small dagger that he jabs at my side. The blade shatters through a dent in my diamond chestplate, sinking deep into my side and sending surge waves of pain up my spine. I snarl in pain and fury, dropping my axe and tackling the man to the ground.

     "NO ONE CALLS ME A FILTY ANIMAL." I bellow in rage, baring my teeth and unsheathing my claws.

     The mans eyes pinned beneath me widen and fear, and I'm nearly about to unleash all Nether on him when an all to familiar shriek is tearing through my head. No one else fighting around me cares, nor seems to notice the scream of anguish. Only myself as I snap upright, to see the exact thing I didn't want to see.

     Completely abandoning the skilled fighter behind me, I nauseously stumble over to the limp body of one of my best friends.

     "Pete...?" I call weakly, dropping to my knees beside him.

      A pained, tear filled, eye cracks open to see me, but closes momentarily. Completely paralyzed with shock, my eyes drift to the large diagonal gash along his chestplate, cutting deep into his chest and stomach.

     "Brandon." I sniffle, using his real name. "Don't you dare die on me..."

     But it's too late. There's nothing I can do to stop the final breath that escapes his mouth, and the ring of items that pour out of his corpse. And it's like the world turns in slow motion. Eyes wide, and my breathing shallow and ragged, I just now seem to witness the gruesome fighting around me. I spin around slowly, in complete and utter shock.

Everywhere screams of anguish fill the air, and I watch as within ten seconds multiple troops from either sides are down, and down for good. I watch one of our troops stab his sword through the stomach of a young Dimensional who only looks like he's thirteen, and has no fighting skill whatsoever. My stomach drops upon seeing the blood covered ground, and smelling the metal like smell. And it's not only my friend Pete that's dead. I can see the body of my other best friend, Choco, face down dead on the ground. My throat runs dry and my stomach drops as my eyes finally land back on the Weapons Expert, who is back on his feet and preparing to swing a mace down on my head.

Emotionally and mentally unstable, I turn on my heels, and shoulder my way through the fight, fresh hot tears spilling down my cheeks.

"That's right! Run like the coward you are!" His taunting yell calls after me, but I ignore if and push on, hurtling over dead bodies and swerving by blades and arrows.

I run. I run and don't dare look back. A trail of blood seeps out of the deep wound on my side, staining the ground I dash over. Over the hot rocky ground, through the portal, and I don't stop running across the plains until I reach the edge of the jungle. My legs are screaming in protest, and my lungs are searing but I don't stop moving. Not for a second. My mind keeps flashing back to the Nether. The fighting, blood, and death. To Bradnon and Choco. Pushing past vines and brush, I push my way through the dense jungle, navigating myself by heart to a place I haven't been in fourteen years now.

     Breaking into the clearing with the small pond of crystal blue water, I sulk over to the waters edge and sit down hopelessly. Unequipping my armour and tossing it to the side, I hug my knees to my chest... And I cry my eyes out. I cry for all the lives I've taken, when I promised I wouldn't. I cry for those who have lost their families. I cry for Choco, and I cry for Brandon. At one point, I even think I cry for Preston, who I know is dead by now. I don't now how long I spend at the pond, crying until I can't psychically cry anymore.

     Whimpering, I gaze through glossy eyes at my reflection on the water calm surface. My eyes are red and puffy, tears drench my fur. I stare back at my broken self, feeling more tears welling up. A feeling of emptiness drains me and my eyes leak the last few tears leftover.

     "I-I do-ont want to do-o this a-anymore..." I sob into my arms, curling up once again.

      And then suddenly, something similar to a hand is resting on my shoulder. I tense up, but don't move nor attack. I'd recognize that warmth and touch anywhere. But he-

     "Jerome... I've never seen you cry..." The shocked and sad voice quietly speaks. "What happened to you?"

~~~

Question of the chapter:

Anyone recognize who the weapons expert was in the Nether?

My answer: Hint: He doesn't use a bow, even though he uses pretty much everything else.